


Sunshine on Quiet New Jersey Nights

by dunneltag879



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Death, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kon needs comfort, M/M, They’re each other’s sunshine, tim holds his boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunneltag879/pseuds/dunneltag879
Summary: “Kon,” Tim gasped, lunging forward to grasp his friend’s shoulders. His eyes scaled his face, calculating every ounce of emotion he could find and depict, it was depressing. “What happened?” He asked more softly, feeling as if he may choke up himself.“I couldn’t save her,”OrAs busy as vigilantes can get, Tim and Kon always manage to make time for one another. They talk and joke around most nights. But tonight, Kon came back in a rougher shape than expected, with mountains of guilt weighting him down.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	Sunshine on Quiet New Jersey Nights

They had a sort of ritual going on, Tim and Kon. Sometime at the end of the week, usually on a Friday, they’d meet up after their patrols on the same old rooftop in Gotham, and just hang out. Typically, the pair would grab hotdogs or a burger and talk. They talked about their weeks, what they had missed, bragged about how many criminals they had taken out, or what girl they saved or so much as winked at. So, usual teenage superhero talk. 

Really, it was pure fun, just a way to see each other during long periods of separation or even just a way to calm down from a stressful week. It was hard to connect on off seasons when Kon was stuck in metropolis and Tim in Gotham, or even worse was one one of them was stationed in a different country, or on the fucking moon.

Though, when they did meet, Tim was always there first. Obviously as a human he needed to take a breather, to relax at least a moment before carrying on after hours of taking down psychopaths and criminals. So, he allowed himself a brief ten minute cool down before Kon would come flying in. 

Yet, tonight, when Tim had arrived to the usual rooftop, his eyes found Kon right away. 

The Superboy didn’t look up, he didn’t say hello or even so much as acknowledge Tim’s sudden appearance. In fact, he was just sitting on the ground, slumped over so his back was pressed against the doorway to enter the actual building. He held his head in his hands, body still and almost fragile. The image of him made Tim nauseous.

“Hey!” Tim called, his smile fading further with every second Kon failed to reply. It was the most unsettling thing, seeing Kon like this, the once perky and charming half kryptonian lay broken and hushed right before him. He seemed so small now, so easy to crush and so tempting to cradle. Tim decided to take a seat next to him instead. 

Kon still didn’t move once Tim planted himself at his side. He sat motionless, making no notion or gesture to so much as turn. 

“Hey, clone boy, what’s wrong?” Tim tried his best to smile, he really did, though it came out a lot more depressing than he had hoped. The smile didn’t matter, though, because the clone did look up then, only he didn’t mirror his friend’s expression. 

Instead, he looked dead. Numb. He looked like he had just lost everyone and every he had ever loved in a matter of seconds and like he didn’t know how to process it. Tim couldn’t stomach a smile anymore. Something was wrong, very wrong. Kon doesn’t just get upset, or at least not _this_ upset. What happened to the boy who beamed sunshine? The one who quite literally lived off bright rays? Who had broken his precious sunshine? 

“ _Kon_ ,” Tim gasped, lunging forward to grasp his friend’s shoulders. His eyes scaled his face, calculating every ounce of emotion he could find and depict, it was depressing. “What happened?” He questioned rather softly, feeling as if he may choke up himself. 

Kon couldn’t look him in the eye. What was so horrible to have messed up his clone boy this badly? They’d fought and seen humanity’s crimes and selfishness to every extend, so what had him so shaken up? 

“I,” Kon started. He bit his lip, almost as if thinking about what to say or how to word it, maybe he thought he’d sound idiotic, or maybe that Tim would think less of him. No. He would never. _Could_ never, think less of him. Kon was pure light. He was always undeniably upbeat and encouraging. Besides, he was his best friend, nothing could come between them this easily. 

“It’s alright, you can tell me,” Tim reminded, looking at his friend with what he intended to be seen as hope, but who knew how the meta would interpret. 

“I couldn’t save her,” 

oh. _fuck_. 

Tim frowned, yet he nodded along for Kon to continue. So he did. 

“There was this, this little girl. She was maybe four, maybe five? Small.” Kon was staring back into his lap as he spoke, eyes squinted shut. Only when he started shaking did Tim grab hold of him. He pulled the kryptonian into a stiff hug, wanting to bring him some sort of comfort. 

Kon didn’t hug back. That was okay, too. He kept his arms cradling his own knees as Tim held him, though he did allow himself to press his head into Tim’s bony shoulder. 

There was a loud sob, tears, then he continued, “I just, I couldn’t save her, Tim, I wasn’t able to. I didn’t...” Kon squeezed his eyes shut, letting out another tender and raw sob, the kind that made Tim’s heart shatter and want to protect Kon from anything else that could ever harm him. “I wasn’t fucking paying attention. I didn’t know there was a kid.”

Tim hadn’t noticed the bloodstains all over his shirt till now, they seeped into the fabric and ran crimson lines and blotches down his arms and seeped his nail beds, all dry and crusted now.

“Shhh, it’s alright, I know you never meant for anything like that to happen,” Tim sighed, trying his best to comfort by holding him tighter and rubbing circles with his palms on his back. Even running soft fingers through his hair. 

“No. It’s not alright. I messed up. Big time. A little girl is dead because of me,” 

“Kon, it’s not—“

“We’re _heros_ , Tim. We save people, that’s what we do. There’s no acceptable way to condemn it. She’s _dead_. A little girl is dead tonight because I wasn’t all there, because I didn’t bring my fucking A-game,” Kon argued. His voice was rough and sharp, it pulled at the Robin’s heartstrings terrifyingly. 

There are was no use arguing that it was okay. It certainly wasn’t. They both knew it wasn’t. So one could easily infer Kon wouldn’t just give in and accept it was okay. Instead, Tim decided to take another approach. 

“Okay. I know, I know. You need to take care of yourself though, too. We’ll take care of you and get you some food and some rest, and then you won’t have to worry about failing to save anyone ever again, okay?” Tim proposed, pulling away only when he felt Kon’s slight nod in his neck. “Good.” Tim could smile then, he knew it’d be alright. So, he proceeded to gently loosen his grip and only hold on to help the kryptonian up to his feet with an extended hand.  
*****************

They rode back to Tim’s apartment on the redbird. Kon had no motivation to fly across the city, let alone back to Kansas for the night. More than so, Tim was too generous and appreciated the kryptonian’s company far too much to turn him down. 

And so, the redbird it was, Tim driving, hair blowing ever so dramatically because who cared about a helmet when you had your superhuman alien best friend behind you with his arms strapped around your waist? Delusional or not, Tim had never felt safer and his cheeks had never flushed hotter. 

******************

The apartment felt stone cold. Unlived in. Unloved. So much so that it reeked of everything Tim built himself up to be. Because how else would a traumatized, insomniac, vigilante boy of a gothic city decorate his living space? The whole apartment wasn’t him. Though, nothing of Tim’s ever screamed _‘Tim!’ did_ it? Much like the room, most things were picked out for him. Whatever works. Maybe that’s why it all matched. Maybe home decor and remodeling was a chore he had put on Tam’s to-do list. 

Kon wasn’t quite sure why he was being so critical. He had been here a thousand times. Climbed through the window. Took care of Tim’s wounds. Had a movie night. Cooked the boy probably his first home cooked meal of the week so he could stop looking like a bloodthirsty vampire and more like a seventeen year old boy. Though, he had to say, the space looked different from the door. Almost foreign. 

“I know I’ve got an extra set of clothes around here, somewhere. You go ahead and shower, I’ll have the clothes laid out for you on the bed when you get out,” Tim explains, and his nose was all scrunched up, As if he’s thinking again. He could kiss him if he wanted. He wouldn’t though. He let a child die about an hour and a half ago. He had no time to think about kissing Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. Gotham’s latest and (truly) brightest bachelor. He’d take the shower instead. 

He liked the water warm. Like the sun. He missed the sun. He’d seen it this morning, bright and early for morning chores in Kansas. He still missed it. Hours felt like days and somehow minutes managed to feel longer. What was time? A concept. A concept far from Kon’s vocabulary, and assumingly hidden away in the unorganized shelves and folders in Tim’s mind. Tim’s beautiful, extraordinary mind.

Tim had told him once he liked cold showers when he needed a distraction. Something like unpleasantness canceled out unpleasantness. Or maybe it was just one more excuse to stay up the rest of the night. Cold kept you alert. Warmth was comfortable and sleepy. Maybe that’s why the boy’s hands and feet were always so cold and so clammy, that or the fact that he was merely skin and bone. Either way, cold water sounded like absolute torture. 

Is that what he had to think about? Tim? Just to get his mind off piercing screams and wide eyes? The way her golden curls stained with blood. Blood. He’d never seen a child covered in so much of their own blood. Who knew life could be so cruel. Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim. Think of Tim. That was better. More pleasant. Well, as pleasant as yearning for someone who could never even think of you in that kind of way could be. Sure. Pleasant. 

Kon wondered what Tim would do. He _wouldn’t_ , though. Tim had eyes at the back of his head. Always one step ahead of everyone else, and four steps ahead of the enemy. If he were Tim, that girl would be alive. Well. Breathing. Just, fine. 

Ever time he closed his eyes he saw her, and every time he opened them his mind screamed for him to shut again. Casualties where expected, always there even when not exactly easy to carry. So why was this one so hard to brush off?   
  


*********************

Tim hadn’t lied about the clothes, though why would he? They were laid out on the bed, just as he had said. This was something to hold on to, to clutch. It was truth and stability. And God knows Kon needed both truth _and_ stability. He had just held a dying little girl, why the fuck else would he need it? 

  
He grabbed the pants, regular black sweats. Then the shirt, a grey pullover that said ‘ _Gotham City Knights_ ’ on it. Clothes Tim had bought for him specifically for the times he stayed over, much like the spare toothbrush and probably dozens of other clothes or blankets or even little trinkets Tim supposed he needed. He always had been the type to overpack, even for others. Either way, it was comfort. Kon knew this sweater. He knew the way the cotton felt on the inside, or the way the embroidery felt along his finger tips. Hell, he even knew how Tim looked in it. His right shoulder beginning to show, the front dipped down a little too far to make out his deep collar bones and beautifully scarred chest. Maybe he could have kissed him that night instead. 

*************************

“Do you feel any better?” 

In his head Tim was holding his face, teasing his fingers along his jawline, licking his lips carefully. His eyes were almost grey to match the messy apartment, but much more full of life. Kon smiled, grinned even—

“A bit,” was all Kon gave in response. It was a bit depressing too. He wasn’t holding the robin. And the robin wasn’t kissing him. Instead, he had his head dipped up from his laptop, tired eyes and all. He was concerned, though. Kon knew that much. He wasn’t stupid. He could see it in Tim’s eyes. The way he lifted one eyebrow high up, and even just in the way he looked up in general.   
Maybe he didn’t blame him, he would be concerned too. 

Tim was patting the seat next to him now. He was sitting on the couch, legs resting on the glass coffee table, laptop balancing on his knees. Ma would have him on the ground scrubbing if she ever saw. Kon did sit down. Well, that was after taking a few more moments to stare at the boy mindlessly, to wonder how someone could look so zombie-like yet so gorgeous all at the same time. Who knew, but boy, was he pretty. 

When he did sit down, Kon leaned his back against Tim’s. He stretched his legs out as far as they could go on the leather, and stared around the room. Tim didn’t mind, either. He was content, typing up what Kon assumed was a report. He wanted to crack a joke about getting right where exactly he had been found crying but nothing came out. He simply closed his eyes. 

******************

  
How do you do it? Be normal around a person while pretending with all you’re best that you’re not madly in love with them? 

He was beautiful. Absolutely stunning. His eyes puffy and red with tears, his long and dark lashes damp and clumped. His cheeks seemed flushed all well, skin definitely drier and pinker from the hot water that grazed his skin only moments ago.

They were so close now. At least, close enough for Tim to feel the heat radiating off the clone. Neither of them spoke a word, thankfully though it was more of a sufferable silence. 

He could touch him, if he wanted. He could snake his hands up his neck, past the mole at the edge of his jaw and intertwine his fingers in his hair. He could tug, pull at his locks and his head down to see the way his neck would hike.   
Or, he could be gentle. He could run his nails up his jaw and a finger or two over his chapped lips. He could kiss him, crane his neck down enough to press his lips to Kon’s, or maybe his forehead or hairline at the least. He liked that idea. It was pleasant, calm, and most certainly exaggerated the need and the want he felt for him. Or,. he could do none of that. 

The last option was safest. It led to no awkward explanations or damages to their friendship. 

Tim had a feeling Kon wanted the same, though. He could see it in his blue eyes, and he could sense it from the amount of intimacy radiating off common physical affection. He had to know Tim liked him, right? After all, it was nearly impossible to lie to the guy. Tim was almost a hundred percent sure Kon wouldn’t act the same around him if he knew the truth and didn’t feel the same. He talked about women day and night, it was his thing, so how could he feel comfortable knowing his best male friend was in love with him? He couldn’t. 

Maybe he was only seeing what he wanted, hearing all he wanted. Longing was a scary thing, dangerous and dimming. Wanting someone hurt worse than heartache. 

***************

They were out with the stars now, well if the skyline would have allowed them. They would be in Kansas. They could be surrounded with them. Kon would point out the constellations with ease, hold Tim’s hand whilst helping him trace them. The city was bland for such a significant absence. 

“Kon?” 

He looked up, staring at the raven haired boy. “Yes?” He was laying down on the gravel, head in Tim’s lap. Maybe he was prettier than all the stars combined. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he spoke confidently, wearing a dazed smile. 

Kon shot up then, with a look which he wasn’t quite sure projected.  
Still, he pulled Tim in. Pulled him in close and smashed their lips together. The robin grasped with the same eagerness. Kon threw a hand to the ground and the other to his back to steady them. 

Tim slipped a hand up Kon’s neck, caressing his jaw with his thumb. It felt like all he ever imagined, the way his other fingers combed through his hair. He was gentle. Small. Loving. Loving Timothy Drake was ethereal. 

******************  
Kon woke up to what felt like a kiss around his eyes. It was calming. He cherished it. They were on the couch. No stars. No night sky. No holding Tim in the cold air. No watching the way he looked beneath him, hair darker than the sky and cheeks as pink as can be. 

They had never gotten up to do all that, either. Kon had simply fallen asleep. It was still dark out, 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Tim yawned. 

He was pretty here too. Maybe prettier. Kon never quite understand what people meant when they said sleepy voices sounded more attractive, but he absolutely did now. Quiet eyes stared down at him. “What?” Tim asked, clearly too sleepy to give a real expression. Just. Sleep. 

Kon could kiss him right now if he wanted to. Like in his dream. But really, what good would that do? 

“What time is it?” Was what he decided on. Luckily being responsible for a child’s death the night before was a good enough excuse to not acting much of himself. Or for being out of it. He wouldn’t dare admit he was admiring the way Tim’s eyes slanted. Or the way he clicked his tongue before grabbing his phone off the coffee table. It also seemed to be a good enough excuse to both get and remain cuddled up to Tim. He didn’t fuss one bit. Besides, he felt good there. Fit like a puzzle piece. A small, bony, pale, fucking gorgeous puzzle piece. 

~~Maybe he could use that excuse to kiss him too.~~

“5:45,” Tim responded. Then he dropped his phone and situated himself in a more comfortable fashion. Kon leaned off him till he was comfortable. Then he rested his head back down on Tim’s pointed shoulder. Tim responded by pulling a blanket over them and held on to Kon. He placed his chin on his head. 

“Are you okay?” Tim questioned gently, reaching for Kon’s hand.   
It was quiet in the apartment now, but not lonely. It was warm. Loving. Maybe that’s why the robin felt such a sudden sense of bravery. 

The kryptonian pondered on the words. He let Tim take his hand. It felt nice to be taken care of, to be comforted. Especially by him. “Well. How okay can you really be after that? I’m calmer. If that means any,” Tim was playing with his fingers now, pulling them apart in a way that made it easy to connect his own. With their fingers now laced, he brought their linked hands close and pressed a faint, yet very apparent, kiss to Kon’s knuckles. 

_That_ , he wasn’t expecting. 

Bravery spread like wildfire, though. Much like overstating and the familiar feeling of not caring what you’ll regret in the morning. That’s certainly what Kon was feeling. That was certainly why he looked up and kissed Tim. Or why he pulled him on to his lap. Or even why Tim reciprocated the same want and trailed fingers up his neck. 

Kon shuttered. This wasn’t a dream. Not like before. No. They were in an apartment. Away from the cold air and the lack of stars. It was 5:45 in the morning. Dark. Warm. Quiet. Calm. 

Let’s try this again. Try to take it all in. 

It was 5:45 in the morning in Gotham, New Jersey. They were in Tim’s apartment, kissing in the dark. Kon was kissing Tim Drake. His best friend. In the fucking dark early in the morning in goddamn New Jersey. It was easily the most exhilarating thing he’d ever felt. 

Tim pulled away when he felt the tears. Kon didn’t chase after his touch. The robin didn’t ask what was wrong, either. They both knew. Instead, he simply kissed and swiped away the salted drops. Because what else can you do for someone who once held a dying girl? He could only hope it was enough. Sitting here, with Kon, just being with him to hopefully bring the least bit of comfort. 

Tim was being too nice. He’d never realized how gentle his Robin could be when needed. He was used to the tough guy leader giving orders. Or his best friend who built walls higher than the heavens. He wasn’t complaining, he liked his side of Tim. He liked it very much. But change is scary, and Timothy drake isn’t one for slowing down. 

“Its alright, wonder boy,” Kon whispered, studying Tim’s slim face. Studying the way the moonlight reflected off his eyes. He quivered. Was still crying. Quietly, though. No sobs, purely tears and a sad smile. 

He could kiss him. Sure he could, he was right in front of him. Kon needed comfort, though, not a kiss. He needed sleep. He needed morning. He needed sunshine. 

Maybe Tim could be his sunshine. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading I had a lot of fun writing this one!! I feel like I was able to pour a lot of my own raw emotions into it. Especially the whole thing about yearning? I’m sure anyone who’s been in love or simply was chasing after someone could tell you as it is: exhilarating and tiring. Especially when you’re not sure if they even like you back.
> 
> Much love and a happy thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! 
> 
> tumblr: @klariwitch


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